Don't underestimate an Italian Lover
by Spanish-Passion
Summary: France dared to question Romano's ability at romance! Now Romano has to do something perfectly romantic in order to prove him wrong, but what can be possibly do? Contains established Spamano! Oneshot for Spamano Day 2015


**This oneshot was inspired by the cover version of the song 'O Sole Mio by Il Volo.** It's a truly beautiful song and I highly suggest you listen to it in order to get the full feel of the story! LINK: watch?v=lw3c5d3aBSE

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It seemed that no matter what the occasion was, Spain always beat him to the punch when it came to romantic advances. Not that Romano ever really TRIED to go out of his way to do something romantic in the first place, that simply wasn't his style when it came to the Spaniard, but as of lately he had been bothered by the fact and it was all thanks to that perverted bastard France.

The other day while over at his place for business with Italy the Frenchman -unsurprisingly- brought up the topic of love, and it got to the point where France pointed out how Italy often did sweet things for Germany yet Romano essentially did nothing for Spain. "I thought Italians were supposed to be the best lovers? I always knew it was the French." The bastard had the audacity speak such vile words, and Romano had immediately leapt to his feet to protest. Of course France challenged this by wanting him to prove it, and in the end Romano had vowed to pull off something so incredibly romantic that France would be groveling at his feet.

Upon returning home and cooling down from his fury, however, Romano realized that he had NO idea what could possibly impress France, let alone the Spanish country of passion. Italy happily told him to forget about France and focus on Spain, who when it came to Romano would be overjoyed even with a simple hug. Romano begrudgingly agreed to the first suggestion but was indisputably set on proving his romantic potential. And so the three Italian Brothers (yes, even Seborga was called in on this) spent a good hour discussing ideas until at the end they settled on an Italian classic. Literally.

After many chaotic days of what could barely be deemed as practice the Italies had perfected a trio of 'O Sole Mio to serve as a serenade for Spain, Romano being the main singer of course. Now all that was left was to set the date for the show. Italy noticed something though. Romano became visibly nervous talking about the performance date, something he didn't understand because Romano sang so well during practice! He looked so confident and admirable~ And it was that exact thought that made Italy form a secret part of the plan.

"Oi, Veneziano! Why the hell are we practicing this again? I thought we were done." Romano complained halfheartedly following Italy and Seborga to their practice spot, or the patio that overlooked the neatly kept gardens of Romano's house.

"A good performer never stops practicing! Plus I just want to be sure about my part~" The southern Italian rolled his eyes and took his place in the middle, not noticing Italy and Seborga give secret excited waves over to one of the bushes some feet in front of Romano. Unbeknownst to the Italian his brothers had invited Spain over for a 'surprise' with the condition that he stayed hidden from view until the end. Needless to say the Spaniard immediately agreed.

"Okay, ready to perform the serenade for Spain?" Seborga announced loudly as he picked up a guitar. Romano furrowed his eyebrows at the way the question was said but nodded.

"Obviously. It's Veneziano that wants more practice."

"That's the spirit, fratello! We can even practice by pretending that Spain's here right now~" Again, more weirdness, but Romano let it be dissolved by emergence of Italy's gentle viola intro. It rolled in smoothly, guitar strums then falling over it like petals and sensitizing Romano to a faint nostalgia that never failed to warm his heart.

From the bushes Spain was quickly becoming spellbound. The expression that graced Romano was peaceful, charmingly so, yet also hinted at powerful from within. When Seborga began singing the first verses verses Spain was pleasantly surprised. The micro-nation could sing well, and on top of that the Spaniard proudly realized that he recognized the song. Oh, but, wait... he also knew what it meant. And if Romano chose this song for him, then-

" _Ma n'atu sole cchiu' bello, oi ne'_

' _O sole mio sta nfronte a te~"_

 _[But another sun, that's brighter still,_

 _It's my own sun that's upon your face~]_

A divine entrance. Spain couldn't even bring himself to breathe, the onslaught of wonder proved to be too much. It's not that he hadn't heard Romano sing before, after all he'd known him for ages, it would be crazy if he hadn't, but just, this song... the fact that he was dedicating one of his most meaningful traditional songs to HIM, and the emotion entwined with every lyric, around every gesture, it was like Romano was truly giving him a place in his life.

The three brothers continued performing without a hitch. Romano pushed through his words just as Spain's heart pushed hard against his chest, and chills coursed down his spine every time Romano happened to cast his gaze on the hiding spot. In the brief moments where Italy or Seborga took over with singing the Spaniard allowed himself to reflect and revel in the moment. He never thought squatting behind bushes and peering through leaves brushing against his face would be so electrifying. Spain knew they were outside, but in his mind there was a grand echo of the trio's harmonized voices as they finished off the last note with strength. It was almost blasphemy the way the silence that lapsed afterwards had to be broken by such casual talk.

"Veee!~ Bravo, bravo! That couldn't have gone better!"

Seborga laughed as he joined in Italy's cheers. "I agree! Nice job you two. Bellísimo, Romano!"

The eldest Italian was pleased by the praise yet baffled by all the excitement. "Grazie, but why are you both acting like it's over? We still have to show the tomato bastard all of this."

"Ah, but you just did, querido."

Romano froze. No... nO fucking way. The Italian pried enough disbelief off his limbs to regain mobility, and turned only to be galvanized by the sight of a practically glowing Spain standing a few ways off. If Romano could both pale and blush furiously at once, he would. "C-Che DIAVOLO!? Spain when the _fuck_ did you get here!?" He felt cornered as Spain came over with a look he couldn't quite identify.

"I got here before you did, thanks to your brothers. I was hiding but I saw everything, Roma~"

...This defined the worst thing ever. The bastard had been listening in the whole time!? Who knows how much he messed up! Oh dear God- what if he thought his expressions were weird, or that he didn't show enough emotion? This was just supposed to be a damn practice!

"I saw everything and I absolutely loved it." He went stiff, from what was said but mostly from the unexpected hug. "I don't remember the last time you made me feel this happy, Romano. You're all talented but to me you're just- _amazing_. Ah, I feel like I've fallen in love with you all over again!~"

The familiar sensation of those arms made Romano's frame slowly relax, though his heart was far from it as it beat wildly and he became rather flustered. "I-It was just a song, b-bastard. Stop with your cheesy crap." But inwardly he was beyond relieved. And damn proud. HA. Wait until France heard about this. Surely he'd never made someone feel like this before.

Romano could hear Italy and Seborga making small talk while putting away their instruments in the background, and though he knew they were still listening he chose to ignore it in favor of returning the hug and accepting a kiss from Spain. He'd yell at them later.

And best of all he felt he was right all along. Italians WERE the best lovers.

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 **Translations:**

 _(Italian)_ 'Che Diavolo!?' - What the Hell!?

 _(Spanish)_ 'querido' - dear

( _Italian)_ 'Bellísimo' - [very] Beautiful!


End file.
